Sliding a car sideways is nothing new to me. When you're from Buffalo, New York, where the snow can start flying in October and not stop until April, exploring the limits of adhesion is part of the local DNA — like chicken wings and four lost Super Bowls. Mostly, skidding is something you try to avoid, but sometimes you give in to the urge and head for the nearest shopping mall to do "doughnuts" on an empty, ice-glazed parking lot. Fun? You bet! But a sport? Who'd a thunk it?

Well, somebody did — about 30 years ago in Japan where street racers staging impromptu events on mountain roads started practicing a technique that essentially involved oversteering through a corner at high speed amid much tire smoke and mechanical madness. Think rallying, but with an emphasis on the journey rather than the destination. Called drifting, this motorized form of self-expression soon became a cult sport with its own tuners, fan magazines and stars. While booming in Japan, drifting was largely unheard of in America until a few years ago when a handful of exhibition races were held in Southern California.

Since then a lot of rubber has gone up in smoke, and drifting appears to have found a burgeoning U.S. audience, judging by the number of cars and rabid fans that showed up at this year's Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach. Along with Champ Car, Atlantic, American Le Mans Series and SPEED World Challenge races, the The Fast and Furious crowd and many traditionalists like myself were treated to daily drifting contests featuring drivers who had already reached star status in that sport — guys like Samuel Hübinette, Tanner Foust and Rhys Millen, to name a few.

Amused and amazed, I still wasn't quite ready to anoint drifting as a mainstream sport that could attract a wide audience until I read that no less than Robby Unser would be competing in the 2007 Formula D Championship Series. Talk about a guy with credentials: the 1998 Indy Racing League Rookie of the Year with a 5th-place finish in that year's 500; eight-time class winner of the Pikes Peak International Hill Climb, who's also raced sprint cars, stockers and sports cars. Oh yeah, he's also an Unser (son of two-time Indy 500 winner Bobby), which certainly will bring a bit more legitimacy to drifting.

It's no surprise that Robby was drawn to drifting. After all, there's a lot of sideways driving in hillclimbs, rallying and sprint cars. But drifting's not as easy as it looks, even for an Unser, and at his Long Beach debut Robby failed to make the cut for the main event, proving that while almost anyone can hang the tail out and burn a lot of rubber, doing it precisely and with poise (points are scored on that basis) takes practice.

Like Unser, Rhys Millen comes from a racing family with strong ties to Pikes Peak. Millen's father, Rod, is an eight-time Pikes Peak class champion who's also won the overall championship five times and holds the record for the fastest ascent: 10 minutes 4.06 seconds. Rhys (pronounced Rees) is no slouch either, winning the High Performance Showroom Stock category three years in a row. Finding himself without a ride after the Japanese withdrew from American rallying following a racing death in the Northwest, he was looking for an outlet for his line of performance products when he happened to attend a drifting exhibition at a local racetrack. Watching those three Japanese drivers perform and seeing the crowd's reaction convinced him that drifting was the perfect avenue for his business. And the next big thing in racing. "Plus driving sideways was in my roots," quips Millen.

Now all Millen had to do was figure out the dynamics of a drift car and find someone to pay for it. That someone was General Motors, which offered him a factory ride — in a Pontiac GTO in his first season, then in a Pontiac Solstice GXP, which he currently drives.

Millen thinks drifting is about to go mainstream for a variety of reasons, including the growing involvement of carmakers and tire companies and an increase in grass-roots participation. Rules that limit extreme modifications to chassis and suspension keep costs in line ($25,000 gets you a decent, entry-level drift car). There's no limit on horsepower, which can go up in smoke. And on tires (ditto).

Millen says that because drift cars are a lot like the ones the fans themselves drive on the street, there's an immediate connection with the audience, which doesn't have to know a lot about racing to understand drifting. "It's like American football," says the New Zealand native. "I don't always understand it. But I can appreciate an individual play when I see it."

Of late, Millen and his father have been working with Formula Drift organizers, hoping to incorporate some of the elements of off-road stadium racing into drifting. "What's missing is flight — catching air over a jump," says Rhys.

That sounds pretty good to me, but how about throwing in some snow too?